When the cargo was discharged and it came to clearing the ship’s hold, we found that the spaces between the ship’s timbers as high as the ’tween-decks were filled in tightly and solidly with small coal, which was very troublesome to extract. In fact, a great deal of the inner planking of the ship had to be removed to get at it, but eventually it was done, the cargo reloaded, the coal being omitted, and once more we set out on the voyage.
There was nothing particularly striking on the passage out. The ship was too deep to sail well, and the captain after rounding the Cape went no further south than was necessary to get a westerly wind. He was greatly distressed, however, at the erratic course the ship made when she had a fair wind. Of course the mate declared that she was properly steered in his watch, and I do not doubt it, but I was called into the cabin, and inferentially informed that iniquities always occurred on my watch, further that it was always in the second mate’s watch that things did go wrong. Neither of my mentors appeared to realise that they had both been in the same position themselves, and that, therefore, they must have suffered in their time from that particular original sin of which they were now complaining.
So long as my connection with sailing-ships lasted I found that this idea concerning the second mate was very firmly rooted (it would not, of course, apply to the steamers in which I afterwards served), and indeed it was not much to be wondered at. He was as a rule the least experienced of the afterguard. He was necessarily thrown much among the crew, for he had to serve out and be responsible for all stores, other than food, used by the men. And he required to be a strong character in addition to his muscular development if he hoped to obtain the same respect and attention given to his superiors.
We arrived at Wallaroo after a long passage, and were moored alongside the pier. It was not a comfortable berth, for the port was subject to sudden strong winds known as “Southerly busters.” These came up against the side of the pier and consequently the stern moorings were slip ropes, which permitted the vessel to cast off and ride by the head moorings, end on to the wind. The pier is probably strengthened by this time, but in those days it was a very flimsy affair.
Our skipper was a man who used his head, and by his instruction the mate had rigged a swinging derrick that discharged our cargo with ease and safety. We then ballasted and set sail for Port Victor, where we loaded a cargo of wool for Melbourne.
Before leaving Wallaroo, however, my old shipmate Hill of the Essex tried very hard to get permission for me to transfer to a brigantine which he owned and was in command of in Adelaide. We had inspected her together in London, and he had then bought her, declaring I should be second mate with him. He reckoned, however, without my skipper, who was obdurate. Hill afterwards took the Belle trading in the China Sea, where he died suddenly, leaving a young wife on board.
Port Victor was a curious little place in those days. It had originated as a boiling-down station. It was not much more than an open roadstead, but it was sheltered by an island that afforded some protection at the mouth of the bay. We had fair luck there and, loading our wool easily, got to Melbourne, where we discharged at Williamstown, and ballasted. There were many splendid ships in port—curiously enough again the White Star and Champion of the Seas, and also a celebrated Aberdeen White Star liner The Star of Peace. Those ships were in a class by themselves; they made very good passages, at times records, and were kept up in first-rate style, I retain a vivid recollection of being passed by one of them when bound up-Channel—but I will refer to that in its proper order.
We beat down Melbourne harbour in charge of one of the smartest pilots I ever saw. I am sorry I have forgotten his name, but the way he worked that ship to windward was a very masterpiece of handling. He had, moreover, a fairly biting tongue, and a vocabulary that was practically inexhaustible if the least thing went wrong in tacking ship. We heard a good deal of it, but we made a fair start for Point de Galle, and nothing of moment happened on the passage.
It is not given to me to adequately describe the first smell of the East. It is years since I last experienced it, and the thought arises whether steam and modernity can have made serious inroads into the characteristics of the Garden of the World? It is no use speculating on that point, however. Here we were anchored off Point de Galle, the smell of the land wind almost giving a sense of intoxication, spice-laden as it came, the native catamarans darting about at an astonishing speed, and what was of still greater interest to us, each boat with a bunch of big yellow luscious bananas that we lost no time in making acquaintance with. There again is a new experience, the first taste of an East Indian banana is not a thing to be easily forgotten. Let no one imagine that the forced and imported things we get in London to-day can be compared to the fruit in its native state; as well compare chalk with cheese!
We lay at anchor here some days, and I remember well seeing the largest shark in my experience. He was blue with black spots and a square head, and probably between eighteen and twenty feet long; in the clear still blue water he looked an enormous brute.